The Show
by IAintAJudas
Summary: Tonight wasn't about sleeping, he knew that the second he stepped foot into the dark room.
1. Chapter 1

Jesus let out deep sigh as he wandered into the living quarters that he called his home, a large window adorned one of the grandeur walls on the side of the mansion, the faded curtains allowed a stream of moonlight to pool in and partially illuminate the dark room. It wasn't exactly a bedroom, more of a fancy-looking storage room with a relatively small bed to the far left side; boxes of supplies and assorted junk from various runs stacked high near even taller cabinets, they cast disconcerting shadows across the walls. Jesus peered into the darkness, trying to adjust his eyes to the vague semblance of shapes littered around the room, at least so he didn't trip over anything whilst he attempted to get himself sorted out for the night. He didn't spend a great deal of time in here during daylight, usually choosing to spend his days and often evenings out patrolling or scavenging beyond the walls of Hilltop. Tonight was different though, he knew that the second he stepped foot into the musty, dark room. A small smile flitted across his lips as he sauntered across the room and shut the door quietly with a small click, he returned to the edge of his bed and began to undress, he shrugged his heavy, leather trench coat off his shoulders with a small huff and threw it onto the small pile of clothing on the floor; wincing as he rolled his shoulders and neck, he could feel the knots and tension in his muscles, a stark reminder of the heavy day he'd endured. Opting to keep his creased white shirt on, he fingered open a few buttons and began to tug his black jeans down his legs, making a point to drag the denim slowly down over his ass as he replaced it with a similarly dark pair of threadbare cotton pants.

As he climbed onto the bed, he grabbed the grey comforter and dragged the heavy material up to his knees, he sprawled out and propped his arm behind his neck as he tried to get comfortable; sleep wasn't on his agenda for tonight though. Moonlight illuminated bare, pale skin as he pulled his shirt up to his ribcage, a hand slowly sliding down the flat plane of his stomach, palming himself through the thin material before slipping under the waistband of his black pants; releasing his hardening cock from it's confines. He slowly brought his hand up to his face, making a show as he licked his palm with his flat tongue, hissing through his teeth as he gripped his flushed skin tightly; a small whimper escaping from his lips. He slowly moved his hand, building up a rhythm as his hips bucked up into the touch, breath deepening as he worked himself over.

"Oh yeah... that's it," He gasped, head falling back as his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. The hand resting behind his head shifted so he could tangle his fingers into his long, mousy hair; tugging slightly, eliciting another gasp.

The room filled with the sounds of wet skin, delicious whimpers and soft moans as Jesus pleasured himself, his hips meeting his unrelenting fist, he flicked his thumb across his oversensitive head, dragging the bead of precome across the hot skin, he moaned heavily at the sensual contact; teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His fingers untangled from his hair so he could snake a hand underneath his shirt briefly to tease an erect nipple, pinching and twisting gently. Eyes squeezed shut as he felt the coil of heat building up, hand moving faster as the other reached down to toy with his swollen balls, "Oh shittt.." he gasped, arching his back against the mattress as the first rush of pleasure sparked in his nerve endings, his mouth was ajar as he cried out, a jumble of moans and gasps as his orgasm washed over him. Heavy breathing filled the room as he rode out the last of the aftershocks. Reaching a hand towards his face, he pushed the sweaty strands back; his arm returning to prop behind his head, he felt exhausted as the heavy tension released from his tight muscles, but tonight wasn't about sleep, he knew that as soon as he stepped foot into the dark room. Slowly, he lazily rolled his head so he was facing one of the dark, obstructed corners of the room. "I know you're there.. hope you enjoyed the show?"


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't snooping he told himself as he crept into the dark room, he was just investigating or some shit, Daryl didn't exactly know why he'd taken a detour after his nightly smoke in the unfamiliar community. The other's had grouped up respectively and distributed themselves into a two rooms in the large manor house, Daryl didn't fancy shacking up with either of the couples, he knew Rick and Michonne probably had some talking to do after the morning's unveiling of their newfound relationship, and whilst Daryl didn't care that the pair had found some intimacy after all they'd had to deal with together, he was a light sleeper and didn't fancy being woken up if the pair decided to have a repeat performance of the previous night. So here he was, sneaking around in the dead of night and somehow - for some stupid, dumbass reason in his head, he'd ended up in Jesus' room snooping-no, not snooping, oh whatever. He'd been flitting through a box of old photographs, assumedly the group had come across a working camera like Aaron had, when he heard the creaking of the floorboards outside the bedroom door, Daryl's eyes widened as he stepped further back into the shadow, it was dark enough for him to wait it out until the younger man had fallen asleep before he could make his swift escape, he held his breath as the door creaked open.

Daryl watched through squinted eyes as Jesus walked into the room barefoot, Daryl internally cursed himself for getting into this situation, he would rather be trying to drown out less-than hushed noises with a pillow than be stuck in here with this little prick. He got under Daryl's skin, with his stupid whatever-colour-they-are eyes, and his stupid fucking hated it. Should'a left him in that tree. Prick. Daryl took a silent step further back into the shadows as he tried to conceal himself. Shit, he was closing the goddamn door, there was no way out now without exposing himself in the process, Jesus probably already thought he was a freak already, without catching him creeping around his bedroom in the dead of night. Why the fuck was he even here? He watched carefully as Jesus returned to his spot by the bed before shrugging his trench coat off, Daryl's breath hitched as the younger man stretched and rolled his shoulders, exposing a patch of too-white skin at the base of his back, he looked away as he felt the heat spread across his cheeks. He shouldn't be here. Oh great, now he's taking his fucking trousers off, Daryl wanted to punch himself for being such an idiot putting himself in this situation, he tried to look away as Jesus began to unbutton his jeans, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. He pulled the down the denim slowly, exposing his surprisingly curvaceous ass to Daryl's hungry eyes, the older man felt like a caged animal forced to watch as a meal was tauntingly teased in front of him, waves of nervousness and claustrophobia swept over him, as well as other sensations that he didn't care to entertain.

As Jesus flopped down onto the small bed Daryl let out a tiny sigh of relief, it wouldn't be long before he could make his escape, he hoped that he could get out without Jesus waking up and catching him. Time would tell. He felt his heart drop into his ass as he realized what the younger man was about to do, Daryl felt a heat spread across his body as he watched Jesus' hand trace across his abdominal muscles, touching himself gently through the confines of the thin material covering his hips, Daryl's eyes betrayed him as he once again tried to force his gaze onto a very interesting spot on the exposed wooden flooring, he couldn't look away.. fuck, he was going to need another cigarette or three after this. Fuck.

His narrow eyes felt like saucers when Jesus pulled his sizeable member out into the palm of his hands, Daryl could practically hear his heartbeat hammering against his ribcage as other parts of his anatomy began to betray him. He watched as he dragged his wet tongue across the palm of his hand, making a fucking show of it, there was no way he could know Daryl was here, it was too dark and he was concealed by the towering boxes of crap. Daryl felt his own cock begin to twitch as Jesus began pumping his fist slowly, his hand itched to touch his own hardening flesh as his jeans began to feel ever-tighter. He was confused, so fucking confused, how could this long-haired, hippy fuckhead be doing this to him? He could barely breathe as he braced his back silently against the cold wall, nearly jumping as his hand moved of it's own accord to the front of his jeans; pressing against the growing bulge as he desperately tried to relieve some tension.

Jesus moaned and gasped something inaudible as his head dropped back against the pillow, a hand grasping into his own hair. Daryl wanted to grab his hair, smash his face into a fucking wall for making him feel all hot and heavy for something he didn't even want, but oh god if he didn't want to bite that tongue that flicked out to moisten his lips. Daryl didn't know at what point his own hand had squeezed into the tight confines of his jeans to grab his own cock, fuck it had been so long since he'd touched himself. The younger man's desperate little whimpers and moans were heaven to Daryl's ears, the delicious noises washing over him like a pleasure-filled wave of the best drugs Merle ever gave him. He ached to be touched by a hand that wasn't his own, ached for this man that he would have happily left tied to a fucking tree merely 24 hours earlier. Fuck I hate him, fuck I want him.

Daryl felt a stab of desire as Jesus arched against the mattress; mouth hanging open in bliss as his orgasm tore through his small frame, that image was going to be forever burned into Daryl's brain for many more sleepless nights to come, his own orgasm took him by surprise and he had to bite his lip hard to stop himself from making a noise. Fuck, he needed find a stiff drink and some more cigarettes; his eyes still wandering over the man's sweaty, shaking form as he recovered, watching as his still-hard cock twitched in his loose hand, the other returning to a safe place behind his neck. Daryl wiped his hand on the back of his jeans, his hair hanging down over his eyes as he took a heavy breath, he was too distracted to notice Jesus turn to face him.

"I know you're here... hope you enjoyed the show?" The husky voice broke the near-silence, Daryl froze and looked up slowly; heart hammering as he realized the man was looking over at his previously-thought 'good hiding place' through hooded eyes. Shit.


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl felt like he'd had all the air knocked out of him, head spinning as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Jesus was sprawled out on his bed, cock still in hand, staring over at him, there was no eye contact so at least he hadn't actually caught him in the act. He knew he was there. That fact made Daryl feel dizzy and nauseated as he tried to back himself further into the corner, he could still see the younger man; lying there in the darkness, waiting for a response. He wasn't going to fucking get one.

"Are you going to stop hiding now big guy?" Jesus drawled, he licked his lips again as he stared into the bleary darkness, his question was met with a resolute silence. He rolled his eyes, tucking himself back into his trousers before swinging his legs onto the floor, he padded over to the corner of the room, flicking a small light on just a few feet away from where the other man thought he was hiding. "Daryl,"

Panic coursed through his system as he made an ill-judged beeline for the door, colliding with one of the crap towers, he would have laughed if he'd stood back and watched the scene for himself - if it wasn't him at the centre of this hideously embarrassing situation, the boxes crashed into one of Jesus' rustic looking cabinets, sending a stack of large, leather-bound tomes crashing towards Daryl's face. Jesus jerked backwards as the hunter hit the ground with a loud thud, he clutched at his nose as he lay stunned on the floor, he risked a quick glance at the younger man stood watching him; an amused twinkle in his pleasure hazed eyes as he smirked down at Daryl.

A loud knock and a concerned voice interrupted the moment, "Are you okay Jesus? What was that crash?" It was Rick. Daryl's stomach dropped as he scrambled up from the cold floor, he kicked one of the books as he stalked over to the window; anxiously gnawing at his thumb.

"S'alright Rick, got up to get something and clumsy me walked into the boxes, you go on back to bed," He called reassuringly, watching Daryl squirm under his intense gaze; head hung low and a dark blush creeping across his face.

He waited until he heard Rick's footsteps going down the hallway in the opposite direction, "Why didn't 'ya tell him I was in here?" he said quietly.

Jesus cocked his head and frowned as he regarded Daryl seriously, "Why would I tell him? This isn't anyone's business but ours, besides what would I say anyway?"

"Don't look at me like that, we ain't got any business,"

"Daryl," Jesus said softly, stepping over a box towards him, "I think we both know that we do," he reached out a hand towards his shoulder, Daryl flinched away from his touch as if his fingers would singe his skin.

"Bullshit," Daryl hissed, he could feel the shame and disgust building up his throat like bile, "Don't fuckin' touch me.. I-I ain't like that," he recoiled, moving quickly away from the younger man, he looked out of the window as he tried to calm down. Jesus slowly walked up behind him, his arms folded loosely across his chest.

"I knew you were here, as soon as I walked into the room I could sense it," He said quietly, a smile briefly flitting across his lips, "You're not as good at hiding as you think you are,"

Daryl glared at him over his shoulder, "Didn't stop 'ya trapping me in here though did it?"

Jesus took another step closer, "I've noticed the way you keep looking at me, wasn't hard to guess what our mutual interest was,"

"Ain't no mutual anything, I ain't gay," Daryl snapped, pivoting to face him, "You don't know shit you prick, quit fuckin' around and let me leave,"

"I was thinking of you by the way,"

"What?" Well that got his attention.

Jesus tilted his head in a gesturing motion towards the messy bed, he took another step closer to Daryl, staring at him with his intense, yet playful gaze. He noticed how he gulped and looked away at the admission, "You have no idea how hot it was knowing you were watching," his voice lowered as he reached out to touch Daryl's shoulder. His fingers trailed across the curvature between his collarbone and throat, settling to gently rest on the hunter's jawline, he noticeably flinched at the touch but didn't make a move to push him away, "We can forget this ever happened if that's what you want."

"No I-I just ain't done any of this before, I-"

The rest of the sentence was lost as Jesus closed the space between them and pressed his lips gently against Daryl's, it only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back, still merely inches away, "Did you like that?" He murmured.

"Yeah," Daryl's voice shook.

Jesus' other hand came up to cup his jaw, "Me too," He leaned in and captured Daryl's lips again, deepening the kiss as the older man's shaking hands came to rest on his hips. Their lips moved hesitantly, Daryl's as though he'd never experienced the soft press against his own, which Jesus realized in that moment that he probably hadn't, "Let me make you feel good Daryl, before we have to go to war, let me show you something worth fighting for," he whispered, hand coming up to gently tangle in Daryl's hair; soft fingertips dancing at the nape of his neck, causing shivers to creep down his spine, "Let me show you what I was thinking about,"

Daryl didn't respond but his eyes snapped up to meet Jesus' cautiously, he could have sworn all the oxygen in the room drained as the younger man reached for his hand, gently leading him towards the bed as the moonlight illuminated his soft eyes; never breaking contact with Daryl's own. Jesus stood in front of him, running his thumbs soothingly across his biceps as he slowly slid the battered leather vest from his shoulders; carefully popping a the buttons open on the man's equally worn black shirt, eyes searching for silent confirmation, Daryl grabbed his wrist as he reached to remove the item of clothing, "Please don't," he murmured, "Leave it on,"

"Okay," He breathed, fumbling with the fastening on his trousers before pushing Daryl backwards gently so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Soft kisses as he climbed atop the older man's lap, clutching at his shoulders as a hand worked it's way into his hair, tugging gently at the long strands.

Daryl watched as Jesus stood, pushing his own already unbuttoned white shirt off his broad shoulders, letting the material float to the floor as he stared hungrily at him, his blue eyes smouldering like fire as he sunk to his knees in front of the hunter; a hand pushing Daryl's torso slightly so he was resting on his elbows, he'd never been so aroused in his life as Jesus' hand pressed firmly against his already rock hard cock, he always thought he would've had his first time fucking some trailer girl from back home, one of Merle's druggy chicks nonetheless. His brother had always warned him about 'actin' like a pansy' because he hadn't screwed any of the pussy that he'd tried to set him up with. Daryl always wondered whether Merle had ever caught on to his orientation, but the more he thought about it, the more he reckoned that Merle probably would've beat the queer out of him if he'd realized. None of that was worth thinking about as hot skin finally touched, Jesus' skilled hand pulling him into his palm, eliciting a deep moan from Daryl's lips as his head dropped back, he felt like his skin was on fire as the younger man applied pressure and a torturous twisting motion with his wrist.

"Daryl look at me," He growled, forcing the hunter to meet his sinful gaze as he traced his lips with his wet tongue, he pressed a teasing kiss against throbbing cock before swallowing it down, Daryl cursing loudly as the head bumped against the back of Jesus' throat, he moaned at the exquisite noises escaping from the older man's lips, Daryl nearly came undone as the vibrations coursed through his body, igniting a fire he never knew he had buried within, he didn't care if he woke the whole house up as he cried out; fucking up into Jesus' experienced throat with unrestrained desperation, forty years of repressed sexuality coming to a blow as the younger man's talented tongue and scalding mouth dragged him into oblivion.


End file.
